The Mindmage's Wrath: A Book of Underrealm (The Academy Journals 2) (16 page)

Ebon thought he saw the corner of Theren’s mouth twitch. “No, Instructor.”

“And the two of you? What was your role in this foolery?” Theren opened her mouth again, but Jia raised a single finger and silenced her. “I have heard quite enough from you. I have directed my question at Ebon and Kalem.”

Kalem looked uncertainly at Ebon. Ebon squared his shoulders. “Theren said she could use our help after she had searched for the ... the signs of the other wizard’s power, or what have you. We were meant to use our transmutation to leave the vaults.”

“So that you would not be detected. How fortunate for us, then, that someone had already warned us you might be trying to sneak inside. Students always seem to think that rumors only fly into their ears, and not into ours.”

At first Ebon was confused, but then he realized:
Lilith.
In anger at their argument, Theren had said she would prove that Lilith was the thief. Lilith must have guessed at their intent to sneak into the vaults, and gone running to Xain or Jia. That explained how they had been found so quickly. Theren’s cheeks flushed red, and she ducked her head to hide the fury in her eyes.

For the first time, Xain moved. He pushed back his chair to stand, and then leaned forwards over his desk. Still his gaze was fixed on Ebon, who looked at the floor again. “I do not believe you,” said Xain softly. “I think this was a plot by the Drayden boy.”

Ebon felt the blood drain from his face.

Theren opened her mouth again, but Xain spoke first, and sharply. “Be silent. I speak not to you, but to him. What say you, Drayden? Do you deny it?”

He could not raise his eyes. He did not know what to say. If he denied it, he condemned Theren. If he admitted it, though it was false, he would take the blame upon himself.

But then Theren scraped her shoe upon the floor and cleared her throat. She had taken the blame from the first. Hopefully she had some sort of plan. So Ebon raised his head and met Xain’s eye. “The truth is as Theren told you.”

“You lie. It is plain to read in your voice, as well as your eyes. Pack your bags. You are banished from the Academy.”

The world spun beneath his feet. A high whine sounded at the edge of Ebon’s hearing. His hand shot out to grip Theren’s arm, a desperate attempt to steady himself. But then Jia cleared her throat.

“Dean,” she said quietly. “The Academy’s rules do not provide for such a punishment. Not unless you believe their intent was to use the vault’s artifacts to wreak havoc upon their fellow students—and then, you should have to expel all three of them.”

At that, Xain hesitated. He straightened slightly, sweeping his gaze to Theren, and then to Kalem. His jaw worked, muscles spasming under the skin. But at last he sat, leaning back in his chair and propping his chin upon his fist. “I have half a mind to,” he said, but the fire was gone from his tone.

“Consider yourselves lucky we did not flood the hallways with flame, as is our right,” said Jia. “And consider yourselves on notice, as well. You will
all
receive punishments for this, and if you should do anything so idiotic ever again, I shall banish you myself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Instructor,” they mumbled in unison.

“Very well. Come.”

They left the room on Jia’s heels. Once in the hall, they all turned their steps towards the dormitories—but Jia snapped her fingers and pointed. They paused, but when she did not move, they quickly followed her directions. She took them down the hall around the corner, where she stopped and glowered at them with arms folded.

“What in the darkness below possessed you?” Her voice was now filled with a much greater fury than she had shown in Xain’s office. “That was by far the most foolish thing I have seen any student do in all my days here.”

Ebon’s face burned. Xain’s hatred was easy to bear, for he knew it was rooted in a falsehood. But Jia’s fury was righteous, and he knew it. “We are sorry, Instructor. It will not happen—”

“Again? It certainly will not. If it does, I promise that expulsion will be the
least
of your worries. How could you do this, Ebon, after we spoke in my office? And you, Theren.” She rounded on the girl. “Do not think I am unsympathetic to your situation. But also, do not think I would hesitate to throw you out of this place on your ear, no matter where you must go afterward.”

At last Theren showed her shame, cheeks darkening as she averted her eyes. Ebon stared at her in wonder. So Jia, too, knew the tale of Theren’s life outside the Academy, and the home to which she loathed the thought of returning. But he had little time to think on it, for Jia turned to him and Kalem.

“I spoke no falsehood concerning your families. Your lineage has its share of stains, Ebon, but I thought you might wish to cleanse them. This is not how you go about it. And Kalem—you are
royalty.
Did you spare a single thought for how you would shame your king, if I were to send him word of his nephew behaving like a common thief?”

To Ebon’s shock, Kalem burst out crying and hid his face in his hands. Jia stopped her tirade at once, and though she tried to keep her stern demeanor, her eyes softened. Tears spilled freely between Kalem’s fingers to drip on the stone floor, and he scrubbed at his nose with the back of his sleeve.

“I did!” he sobbed. “I did think of it. But ... it is only that I cannot stand it anymore. The sights we saw out on the streets. The instructors who were killed, and the students as well. And now Credell, who taught me only a few years ago. I see his face. I see
all
their faces, in my dreams, and sometimes with my waking eyes. I only ... I only wanted to
do
something. Something to help. What if they come back for us?”

Jia’s face transformed to a vision of perfect shock, but no more so than Ebon. He realized his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it with a snap. Then he elbowed Theren so that she did the same. Jia turned to them.

“Is this true? Is that why you embarked upon this mad scheme?”

“Yes,” said Theren. “I told you I wanted to see if I could learn who had broken into the vaults. I suppose that was only half the truth. I thought ... I thought that perhaps it might help defend the Academy. Somehow. It was a foolish thought, I know. If only there were something I could do ... that
we
could do.” She raised her eyes to the sky, blinking hard as though fighting back tears. Ebon bit down on his tongue to keep from laughing, and kept his eyes on the floor to hide the smile.

Kalem’s sobs redoubled, and he lurched towards Jia, wrapping his arms about her waist. She started, hands drawing back. But after a moment, she lowered one to his hair, and patted his shoulder awkwardly with the other. “Will Dulmun come back, Instructor?” said Kalem.

“They will not,” she said softly. “They know that if they should try, the High King has now gathered much strength upon the Seat to repel them. And the instructors will keep you safe, besides. Now stop crying. It is unseemly for a son of royalty.”

Kalem nodded and sniffed hard, stepping back and swiping at his nose again. Ebon reached out and draped his arm across the boy’s shoulders. He looked plaintively at Jia. “He has been inconsolable since the attack, Instructor. We have tried our best to comfort each other, but we all bear the same scars. We only thought that taking action—
any
action—might do us all some good.”

Jia sighed. “I suppose I understand, at least in part. But you must never do anything like this again. If you find your thoughts so occupied, you may always come and talk to me, or whichever Instructor you prefer. We are here to help you, and to protect you. You must let us do both, or we shall indeed be in far greater danger.”

Ebon nodded quickly. “Of course, Instructor. I understand. And we will not try anything of the sort again.”

“Promise me.”

“We promise,” said Theren vehemently.

Jia waved her hands quickly. “Then be off with you. It is nearly time for bed.”

They turned and made off down the hallway. As soon as they had rounded the corner, they broke into a jog, and then a run once out of earshot. They did not stop until they reached the foot of the stairs leading to the dormitories.

“That was a brilliant performance,” said Theren.

Kalem looked at them both. His eyes were still tearstained, but he wore a broad grin. “It was, was it not?”

Ebon shook his head. “I wish you had done it in front of Xain. His judgement is far harsher.”

“Did you see the hate in his eyes? He would have shown no pity. Not like I knew Jia would.”

Theren snorted. “Remind me never to believe a word that comes out of your mouth, Kalem.”

They all burst out laughing.

seventeen

THE MOMENT EBON ENTERED THE dining hall the next morning, he felt many eyes upon him. He stopped in the doorway, looking at the other students in confusion—but the moment he looked at the students watching him, they quickly turned away. Some whispered to their friends behind their hands and turned back when they thought he might no longer be looking.

He moved forward again, frowning—and then it dawned on him. Word must already have spread of their exploits in the vaults. These were not looks of fear, or scorn—most were curious, and perhaps some even admired what he had done. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, which he quickly tried to suppress.

Ebon reached the line of students who awaited their meal. There, just two students ahead of him, was little Astrea. Her frizzed hair stuck out even more than normal, as though she had not taken much care to brush it that morning.

“Astrea,” said Ebon. She did not move. He tried again, louder. “Astrea!”

She turned to look at him, and a chill struck his heart. Great bags hung beneath her eyes, which were bloodshot, and her skin was paler than could be explained by long hours of study. It did not seem she knew who he was at first, for she had to blink twice before recognition dawned in her eyes.

“Ebon,” she said, trying to smile. She stepped out of line to join him. Her thin arms wrapped him in a hug, but it was a half-hearted thing.

Credell’s death must have struck her far harder than he had thought. Guilt coursed through him, for he had not once gone to check on her since they saw the body. She was only a child. He opened his mouth to ask her how she fared, but then thought better of it. Instead he patted her hair and said softly, “I have greatly missed seeing you.”

“And I you. But soon I will graduate into your second-year class.”

“Thank the sky,” said Ebon, giving an exaggerated sigh. “I need you to teach me. Perrin is a fine woman, but she does not understand the intricacies of my mind as you do.”

That earned him a small smile, which warmed his heart to see. “Indeed, a fool’s thoughts can often be hard to decipher,” she said.

Ebon clutched at his chest. “You wound me.” She giggled, and his smile broadened. “I hope you have been spending time with your other friends. I know they are not so entertaining as I am, nor as clever, nor handsome. But none of us should spend our days alone, especially now.”

It seemed she understood his true meaning, for her eyes clouded. “I have been spending much time with my sister,” she said softly. “She has been a great comfort to me.”

He frowned. Then he remembered the night they had found Credell—the older student, Isra, kneeling beside Astrea and holding her away from the sight of the corpse. “Isra? She is your sister?”

Astrea shrugged. “Not by blood. We both come from an orphanage in Feldemar. Or we did, until our sponsor found us. I suppose we should say we are part of her household, now.”

“I did not know,” Ebon said quietly. The thought that Astrea was an orphan, bright-eyed and kind as she was, saddened him greatly. He tried to imagine himself in her place. She must have loved Credell greatly, for he was always kind to the other students, and never feared them as he had Ebon. And now he was gone. No wonder Astrea looked so worn. Ebon wondered if he could even keep attending class every day, were their roles reversed.

Astrea looked down at her shoes now, and her chin had begun to tremble as though she might cry. Quickly Ebon put a hand to her shoulder and smiled. “I cannot wait to study with you in Perrin’s class. There are three spells to learn before you can pass the second year. One is to change obsidian’s color to white. I have never heard of such a thing.”

She blinked, banishing tears as he drew her interest once more. “I know,” she said, and then leaned in to whisper. “I have even been trying to practice the spell. Let me see if I can ...”

Her brow furrowed, and she put one of her fingers to the edge of the wooden bowl. For a heartbeat, light flashed into her eyes and then faded. When she withdrew her finger, the spot was a shade lighter.

Ebon gawked. “That is incredible, Astrea. But how can you be so far advanced, and still not perform the passing spell for the first-year class.”

Astrea shrugged with a self-conscious smile. “Some wizards take more easily to one spell than another. But I am almost done with the testing spell, too. I meant it when I said I would join your class soon.”

They had reached the table at last. Attendants scooped porridge into their bowls, and they made their way through the dining hall towards their friends. When they reached the center of the room, Astrea gave Ebon a final smile.

“I will see you soon,” he promised.

“And I you,” she said, wandering off.

Kalem was waiting at their table when Ebon sat down. “Good morn,” he said, speaking around cheeks filled with food.

“Good morn,” said Ebon. “Did you have as much trouble sleeping as I did?”

“I cannot know, for I was not there. But most likely, yes. I kept starting awake with thoughts that Dean Xain might change his mind, and expel us after all.”

“I thought he might abduct us in our sleep, and have us thrown into the Bay,” muttered Ebon. That, indeed, had plagued his nightmares. He had seen it, like the day he had fought Cyrus on the cliffs, except that he was Cyrus and Xain was the one on the ground. The Dean gripped Ebon’s ankles and turned them to stone, and then he was falling, falling into the ocean, where dark waters swirled around him and crawled down his throat.